Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

Tag: mental health

  • spoken word: united as one – 05/01/22

    united as one recording

    my mind,
    my heart my body my soul
    three unite know my all

    to time I am like a raging river gushed by a future sea
    there is reverence, not irreverence, yearning, deep within me
    temper yet the strangeness the dictations and rhythms of time
    smile widely in the circumstances
    baby girl you’ll always remain mine

    there are times of course, when we are free from suffering and pain,
    the dire annihilation and surrender just the same.

    Fear not, youthful youngsters, fear more jealous, evil crones
    the effigy is part of this circumstance
    fight through medication together
    not alone.

    Copyright © 2022 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Photo by Matthew Montrone on Pexels.com

  • fiction, please: the thirteenth hour – excerpt – 01/01/21

    The television show blares to life. I cannot watch anymore; the irreverence is bugging me, sending my mind into strife. I watch the little lady mouth away and curl into a ball, is it all for show? No, no no.

    Her dear counterpart sits by her bedside, interrupting with ease whilst she tries to compose herself tap tapping the keys. The rhythmic data of his worded snipers are dot dot dotting the area at large and then he clasps his hands together shakes his head and sighs, gives her a smile and says, “Darling, please don’t whine…” She glares at him, insidiously, fire raging within her orbs. He clasps his hands together once more, he is confused by her delirium, perhaps she is just…. bored? Is she playing a game? Is she waltzing without a name? Is she bee-drilling just the same? Oh, darling, what’s in a name? These people think they can irreverently tame, kill, main, but the truth of the matter is, she is at one with peace, she is Spirituality, she is beauty and reverence, she is Lauren Maree,. Control Save.

  • darling love me do – 01/01/22

    darling love me do – 01/01/22

    Photo by cottonbro on Pexels.com

    darling, love me do.
    you promised to look after me, my heart, my soul you keep,
    you watch over me, gently stroke my hair, envelope protect my soul as I sleep
    and in wonderment I feel relaxed enough to release thy demons of starvation
    comfortable to freely eat
    junk food I can see, I can hold, taste, see, feel without disdain,
    without aggravation, it’s as though we were from yesterday

    remember those times we enjoyed those laughs,
    when we were wide eyed and smiling.
    like two gangly giraffes?

    My love, love, my wide eyed hope, allow me to provide the scope, I stared at you, and then I realised,
    I suddenly would know,

    you are the One. No other man would stay with me these tense terse hours, emergency department, demands shot, barked, fired. You know, you understand me, you are my hidden key, I have realised ever so slowly. That you’re the one for me. Forever be with me.
    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.

  • Poem: dirty fatigue – 11/12/21

    Poem: dirty fatigue – 11/12/21

    fatigue washes over me
    like a deadly dirty sin
    engulfing me embodying me
    takes its fill of me in
    my vision how it blurs
    swaying leaning I reach forth
    unintentionally, of course
    im falling im falling in a manner
    completely unacceptable
    breaking me
    there’s no such thing as monotony

    I fall asleep in place
    sitting up
    apparent hours minutes seconds seem to race
    i’m broken yet oddly assured that I’ll at least
    succeed at gaining some rest
    the writing that ordinarily takes ten minutes to pen
    fifteen minutes left until the almost-full hour
    disjointed thoughts and messages jotted
    now to entertain.

    I will not cry I will not moan
    victim mentality is not in my being known
    I do not know why I am suffering this way
    though, three to four hours a night
    each rest is broken like shattered pavement
    beneath my bare toes

    concentration is a joke
    my eyes my mind travels
    traverse their own wanderlust
    and walking ahead upon a path
    noticing men and women canoodling
    at half-mast
    I cannot ascertain fully what is occurring
    inside my brain
    though I suspect, ascertain, hypomanic is
    the state.

    shall we lead into mania,
    I wonder to myself,
    this polar extreme highlighted by my fervent actions
    frantically creating unto myself
    but there comes a point where I must
    Slow. It. Down.
    I do not know I do not know
    how to escape this vicious cycle
    or, am I meant to simply deal with it
    on my own?

    the moral support which
    could be provided
    is severely unacceptable
    for some assessments are rubbish
    wanting me to be under a yowling’s affair
    instead:
    tik tok tik tok laissez-faire
    rare visitations to my foreign bed.

    Original artwork by myself.
    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    (10/12/21)

    Previous Post: boy, what’s your name again? -10/12/21
    clear to see – 10/12/21

    Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

    Instagram @laurenm.hancock

  • Spoken Word/Poem: gusty aura – 01/12/21

    Spoken Word/Poem: gusty aura – 01/12/21

    ambiguous this breath I take
    what does it mean
    to my whole, how does it relate?
    does this sustenance
    this air I take
    matter in any means of entirety
    do I exist for a form of fate?
    wonder not into the desert of human traits, deep existence
    wander in the sand dunes
    heated footsteps
    this breath I take
    expired and
    spent.

    there may be many heaves to come
    or several to falter as I fall
    my ailing heart perhaps
    suffers quietly
    I need not, want to tell,
    for to acknowledge the damage that
    I may have already done
    performed performed unwind this
    travesty
    self-abuse this is not a clever tale

    forthcoming do I see this
    will it fit my puzzle pieces
    as I dare to rearrange to dream
    to find that final picture without suffering
    to exist not exist but live and breathe
    with sights song
    energy free
     
    no more stares
    who cares for their thoughts
    the ignorant with their opinions whom
    do not truly know me
    only the visual

    they should be taught
    not to judge on appearances
    have I not worked so very hard
    on annihilation of that form
    that former suffering
    now I live for me
    to be
    I may have taken it a wee bit far
    but at least my efforts are here
    billowing like a gusty aura
    all about me.
    (30/11/21)

    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.

    Photo by Jeremy Bishop on Unsplash

    https://soundcloud.com/user-894707136/billowy-aura-spoken-word?si=496941190b8848f08518baa643c42c0a

    Previous Post: vivid radiance – 30/11/21

    lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

  • Poem: uncontrollable – 13/11/12

    Poem: uncontrollable – 13/11/12

    the uncontrollable nature
    as the shades begin to groan
    blossom apparently in fruition
    but aching in a row
    floral paper-maché, delicate yet growing stronger
    i cannot hold myself together
    unlike the kaleidoscope
    i succumb i fall under

    what is left but my wavering resolve
    shaking with anticipation
    my heart it aches it moans
    it’s existing in the screaming drivel of itself
    to annihilate everything before me
    i want need have to delve

    the brightness of the blooms are belligerent
    with their cheery disposition
    contradictory in nature to my demeanour
    i cannot begin to fathom
    the aftermath
    the dangers
    what am i doing to myself
    i wonder
    is there any intention or point in analysing
    sheer contemplation?
    place these moments away high on the shelf.
    (12/11/21)
    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Painting by Lauren M, Hancock, copyright 2021

    Previous Post: defining explosion 2.0 – 12/11/21

    Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

  • Poem: Control – 09/11/21

    Poem: Control – 09/11/21

    positively bursting
    bursting at the seams
    who thought a mindless act like this
    could whisper many dreams?
    aching at the midriff
    yet calling, wanting more
    short-term fervour
    temporary gratification
    reach into that cupboard:
    what’s in store?

    I know it’s unwise to continue,
    to carry on with this mission of sorts
    but nutritionally body is craving it
    dying for it
    is this the truth? Perhaps not yet,
    I’m not so sure.

    caught up in the haze of the moment
    confusion as I reach, shovel,
    satiation refuses to reign,
    so many months,
    so many hours,
    unravelling hard work,
    but, required all the same.

    it’s not so frequent but it is becoming more prominent
    my resolve my stoic nature is beginning to soften
    I tell myself, it’s fine, a once-off,
    will rectify damage the next day,
    self-absorption not, but obsession where I lay.

    numbers tracked logged
    today I must take off
    there’s little point in detailing
    when today my mission is a failure, failing

    cannot stop myself
    I don’t want to even try
    it’s become something I do
    second nature
    and for certain others viewing
    a plaintive tear in the corner of their eyes.

    improvement is possible
    if that’s the way I wanted it
    but what I deem important and a benefit
    is different from those coming from Wellness
    it’s a matter of perspective
    it’s a matter of my urge
    it’s a matter of what drives me
    and for me, continuing feels like a surge

    lightning rods of control coursing through
    my veins
    my heart is adamant
    pinpointed eyes the focus within my brain
    I will continue on because it is what drives me
    I am compelled
    I must control, control
    and this is my urge,
    today’s downfall hopefully is just a spell,
    it shouldn’t happen for a while,
    stop, I implore.
    (09/11/21)  
    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.

    Photo by Joshua Fuller on Unsplash

    Previous Post: self-worth – 09/11/21

    Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

  • Poem: Placed Just Right – 03/11/21

    Poem: Placed Just Right – 03/11/21

    please place it into place
    for I am found
    discrepancies no longer need to abound
    my world is prismatic
    how about yours?
    this is the way I prefer it
    darkness is too untoward

    lightness and fluidity
    I have routine daily
    which sets me in steed for healing gently
    I am encouraging my world
    I am watching myself bloom
    I wish to welcome many others
    those who wish to blossom joyfully in this room

    abide by no rules
    live freely
    strength, resilience, be bold
    to have come from such instability
    when my mind was fraying at the seams
    when the pieces were already shattering
    broken already, then further
    my thoughts chattering.

    delusions so grand
    I encapsulated so many lands
    being fiercely unwell, so many years
    taken away from me,
    but now I’m becoming right, right, right,
    there is nothing left to fear
    my heart, it feels full
    because I’m living in a way
    I hold dear

    I’ve learned these mechanisms which
    keep me in tow
    set my mind at ease
    abilities to cope, slowly grow
    stressors become lesser
    and my temperament is free
    to be myself
    be less counterproductive
    more me,
    improvements to see.
    (02/10/21)
    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.

    Photo by Ashkan Forouzani on Unsplash

    Previous Post: evolution – 01/11/21

    Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

  • Poem: Anomaly – 26/10/21

    Poem: Anomaly – 26/10/21

    Finally, the moment of truth has arrived
    where I will be revealed,
    take all things in my stride,
    it’s not as though
    all is done, but
    I exist, smilingly,
    holding my world together,
    nevermore shall I come undone.
    For I am too knowledgeable for that,
    my warning signs,
    traffic light symptoms,
    I’ve had enough of that,
    because I know,
    I know,
    that my healing,
    recovery, took place within,
    at home.
    Took the opportunity to shamelessly
    look after me,
    wrapped in a bubble,
    cocooning,
    and here I am,
    self-cotton-wooling with
    the ability to still breathe,
    I’ve worked on, working on me,
    the results, fruitful,
    now, where’s the anomaly?
    (22/10/21)
    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.

    Image source

    Previous Post: Welcome – 24/10/21

    Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose

  • Poem: Deliberate Change – 17/09/21

    Poem: Deliberate Change – 17/09/21

    reduction of meds
    equals reduction of stability
    you’re questioned whether what you’re doing
    is right for you
    but I know it’s important to get this poison
    out of my system
    to slowly cleanse myself of it
    it’s been soaking my mind
    tainting my equilibrium.
    it can’t be healthy to be on high doses
    for years and years –
    when you are struggling the most,
    perhaps it’s important
    to have these as bandages
    to cotton wool my mind
    with white fluffy woollen balls
    but I need the reality
    of living without so much chemical restraint
    I’m just taking matters into my own hands
    it’s only weeks that I am not going to wait.
    the edginess in reduction is the worst part
    the raw red feeling
    of being scraped against a
    venomous spiked ceiling
    being dragged upside down
    feeling discomfort,
    exhaustion to the highest degree
    this dose has been with me for years
    I’m getting rid of it perhaps a little too fast,
    deplete it from me,
    just damned well leave my system,
    let me breathe.

    Copyright © 2021 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
    Image source

    Previous Post: River of Consciousness – 15/09/21

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